Coming Back To You
by TheMagicWorks
Summary: When everything you once loved is gone, how can you keep fighting?
1. Another Normal Fight

Another fight. It was a dark horrid, late night. Cold air blew in. And if Hermione knew the events lying ahead, none of this would have happened.

Yes, Ron and Hermione still had their fights.

Earlier that day, Ron stopped by Hermione's office at the Ministry to find her talking to one of her male colleagues. Krum was over for a while and had come to see her. Krum took a chance alone with Hermione and he'd tried to kiss her. She pushed him away and he left. She thought nothing of it. When Hermione arrived home, they got into a fight. She insisted that Ron didn't need to worry, but he persisted. He'd gone upstairs angrily and Hermione tried to see him in the morning. He'd already gone to work, to avoid her.

She remembered the last words that they'd said that night.

"This is pathetic, you're pathetic!" she yelled. She shot a desperate look at him as she cried.

"Shut up. You're bloody annoying me. I don't care anymore. Nothing matters." He said through gritted teeth. He pushed her away and she held herself trying to keep her tears in.

He looked at her. He hated her crying, it was the worst thing. Like she was in such pain. And all the times she'd cried, it had been him. His fault. He stopped. His fault again. Why couldn't he bring himself to hold her tightly? Why was he doing this? He felt as if he was being pulled apart from the inside and had no control over his actions.

"I don't want to fight about this anymore." Hermione sighed sharply. Her tone was flat.

"Bloody hell. Look 'Mione, I don't want to fight either! But, can't you understand what I'm saying? Please, try to look at this from my point of view, for once." he moaned.

"What! Rudeness isn't gonna get you anywhere Ronald!"

"Pft, you never think about how it is for me. How do you think I see it? Try to understand!"

"I've tried! I have, honest. There is nothing between Krum and I!"

"Oh come on, he tried to kiss you! Do you know how I feel about that?"

"Are you jealous?"

"Now who's being pathetic? Don't be stupid!"

"You should drop it."

"Drop what?" he snorted.

"The Yule Ball. If you'd asked me, it would be all fine. But you didn't because you are a git." The words rushed out. Oh no.

"Oh, so that's how you feel? I'm just a git."

"No, I didn't mean it like that.

"Right this is over. Over." Ron made his way to the stairs.

"Please." she'd said. And that was all. She didn't want to fight.

"Bye." he'd walked away as she stood there, breathing heavily.

And after a few seconds she'd tried, chasing after him, but he locked her out. She just sat on the landing, waiting for a miracle. He stayed there all night. So did she. And he just left. And she hadn't seen him since.


	2. A Horrible Feeling

She awoke suddenly. Her life was thrusted toward her again and she thought one thing. Ron.

In a flash Hermione had rolled from her bed. And dragging a blanket around her, ran to his room. He was gone. Bed sprawled, a variety of smashed things on the floor. Their room in a mess. And sleeping alone in her old room, was horrid. Nightmares. That always happened sleeping alone. And seeing an empty, destroyed room was too much for her.

With a small shaky breath, she crept downstairs, her heart heavy, sinking. Mind racing, what if he'd never return. She thought of the painful months without him.

"Hey, Gin. Couldn't sleep." she muttered upon seeing her curled on the sofa.

Ginny's face was pale and eyes cold, like her own emotions matched Hermione's.

"Morning, what's up?" she said slowly upon seeing the grim look upon Hermione's face identical to hers.

"Ron." and at this, Hermione was in floods of tears. Her poor body, clutched tighter at the blanket as Ginny rushed towards her.

Ginny took her best friend into her own trembling arms. "Shhh, I saw him leave. He's fine. He's going to work. Some important case or what-not."

"Who're they fighting?" she grumbled.

"No idea. Wouldn't say."

"Where's Harry?" she shouted.

"Harry's gone too. Shh.."

"Gin, Gin.. I'm scared."

"Of what?" Ginny sighed, holding her tightly.

"The end, this is it, they are never coming back." Hermione put her arms around Ginny now, needing extra comfort.

"Stop being silly. You two always fight. He always comes crawling back like the arrogant sod he is." she muttered.

"But this was.." Hermione stepped back. "...this was bigger. I feel something in my bones. Something bad. You know, like the times the boys were in danger. I feel that, but it's stronger. Worse."

"Hermione." Ginny took her face into her hands. "Stop it. Please."

"Ginny." Hermione didn't know what else to say. She wanted him back.

"You're scaring me too, they're fine. They're always fine." There was a silent pause as the two girls fought for words to say. "They're always fine." she repeated, more to reassure herself. Pause.

"Let's get some tea shall we?" Ginny sighed leading her by the arm.

Hermione dropped the ragged blanket that he was clutching for comfort. She let out a cry, pushed through the dining room door and looked around.

Ginny sat her down at the table and poured her drink. She delicately placed it in front of her. Hermione was far away, mind dancing.

"Hermione. Tea."


	3. Worried Family Breakfast

February, 28th. Sunday morning. 5.30am. The Burrow. The Kitchen. Breakfast.

The table was full as usual, with food as well as people. Seeing as all the family were down at the moment for Ron's birthday soon. His 22nd. Molly'd organised partied, and gifts and everything for him.

Percy sat to the left of Bill, their wives Fleur and Audrey either side of them. Arthur was at the head of the table. George sat next to his Dad and Charlie. Hermione and Ginny sat together, spaces next to them for their boyfriends.

It was just a usual day, but everyone was worried. It had started the same as every other day. Molly would call them for breakfast and the whole extended family, trudged down stairs to eat together. And as they sat around the breakfast table there was a commotional buzz.

Harry and Ron weren't back from work last night and had not been in touch.

Hermione poked at her bacon with a fork. She shoved her egg to one side. No appetite. She wouldn't be so stressed if Ron and herself had not have fought last night. She remembered it all, and she hated it.

So everyone was in a panic, waiting for the boy's arrival. They were late. About 5 hours late.

It wasn't the first time though, Hermione remembered. But Molly was fussing, kept contacting the Ministry.

"Probably just another over night errand," George reminded his unstable Mother.

"Yeah," Bill reassured her, "they always turn up in the end Mum." She nodded, as she stood at the sink scrubbing a plate.

Percy sat, eating from his bowl of cornflakes. "Last I heard," he said with a mouthful, "they'd been sent out on a mission with Dolohov and Rowle."

"What?" Molly and Ginny both spat. The whole family had tensed, knowing how dangerous these people were. Deadly, lethal.

Antonin Dolohov. Hermione could see his face looking at her with a snarl. His long, pale, twisted face and dark ragged hair. His power was strong, and he'd affected everyone here greatly. He'd killed Fabian and Gideon Prewett, Remus Lupin, tortured Hermione Granger, and many other innocent people were sent to their graves because of him.

Thorfinn Rowle. He was was an enormous, muscled Death Eater with blond hair. Just as powerful, terrifying, cunning and sly. He was responsible for many more deaths, attacks and tortures.

Percy swallowed hard. "Oh dear. Nobody told you? They broke out of Azkaban two months ago." Percy said slowly trying to retrace his steps. The whole family fell cold and shivered.

"Why weren't we informed Percy?" Arthur said with a catch in his voice.

"Oh, the boys and Ministry said they didn't want to worry you."

"Didn't want to worry us? Bloody hell." George groaned. "Them men up in the offices are mental."

"Oh that's great that is.." said Audrey glancing around the table. "For all we know they could be-"

"Stop." said Ginny. "Don't say it."

Hermione took Ginny's hand from under the table and squeezed it hard. Knowing both of their boyfriends, brother, best friends could be anywhere.

Fleur was holding Victoire very close to her, a gorgeously blond and blue eyed baby bouncing on her knee as she started wiggling her toes. You could tell they were Mother and Daughter, their looks were uncanny.

"We shouldn't worry because-" Fleur muttered.

"Well I am bloody worried!" Ginny spat interrupting her sister-in-law.

Hermione hadn't said a thing all morning so when she spoke her voice was croaky.

"I, I'm sure they're fine. They always are." And although she didn't believe herself, she tried.

People rushed about for the next few minutes, Hermione only talking a few times. It's all she could manage. She had a horrible gut-wrenching feeling something had happened.

When the group moved into the lounge, the atmosphere was calmer. Hermione sat down with a tea on the floor amongst all the commotion. She thought and thought. Anxiously awaiting the return of the famous men.


	4. Only One

Tick, tock. Ron and Harry's faces on the famous Weasley clock were currently at lost.

Fleur sipped a fifth cup of tea as Bill sat opposite her, watching her beautiful face closely.

"Bill," she murmured. "Are you worried?"

"No, Ron's always okay.. and Harry, you know that." Bill said, but the slight shake in his voice made it clear his words were lies.

"I guess." Fleur said, before the hot beverage touched her lips again. She felt Bills warm lips on her forehead and his hand on her waist.

"We're okay."

There was silence for a few minutes.

The clock's hand flew to Harry Potter being at home. Fleur's head shot up, her hands waving in every direction. "Back! Cooo'eee evryone, they'z back!" She called into the lounge from the kitchen as Bill let go of her hands.

Everyone flew out of their seats, Ginny and Molly hand in hand standing close to the door. Angelina collected the cold tea's and chucked the mugs into the sink. George sat on the worktop with half of his brothers and Arthur opened the door as his children and family stood around.

Hermione glanced out across the Weasley garden. And my it looked fine this morning. Sun streaming through big oak trees. Wellington boots formed a pile outside the back door. And although there was no strong breeze, the leaves swayed lazily, giving a rippling effect. The chickens had been shut away in the new hut Percy had made himself.

Blossoming flowers, bees buzzing and lots of gnomes. Molly didn't mind them now as Arthur had bargained to let them stay. Fascinating creatures. Crookshanks was fond of chasing gnomes around the garden of The Burrow, but at the moment he was curled in the corner of the room against a wall.

"They?" Ginny said slowly... Hermione looked back from her cat to the garden.

Oh no. Hermione's gut clamped tight.

"It's Harry dear.." Audrey stated.

"It's Harry." Hermione muttered.

And the figure was coming nearer. He was easy to make out now, clearer features. Clearer emotions. Clearer pain. And then it hit everyone, something was wrong. Some started crying but none moved to comfort him.

Upon Harry's forehead, covered by his uncontrollable black hair, was a scar shaped like a lightning bolt. And this was normal. But never, since war, had it been like this. This was not good.

At first when it happened, he felt like nothing was real anymore. He tried to convince himself that the person wasn't dead; but after a while, everything sunk in. Well, not sunk, fell. He felt such an anger, hate towards the person that left him, but that drained away and you soon he had nothing but emptiness and alone without his best friend.

He looked half dead as he trudged across the lawn toward the house he called home. And he did not smile, his face was solid and cold. He was pale, constantly coughing and tears ran down his face. He seemed to be wincing each time his left leg moved.

He might as well have been the boy who'd been stabbed in the heart a million times but was forced to live. He felt heavy, hot and horrid. Blood stained his face and palms, ripped clothes and only a wand in his hand. It felt useless to him, it had done nothing when it was needed.

Ginny stood there, watching him, crying into her Mothers arms. Why she didn't run forward she did not know, she wanted him. And she just couldn't move, so scared, so wrapped in the moment. Harry, who, what, where.. Harry..

Time was a blur, he felt as if he'd been walking toward the house for hours. Time was a mess, time was wrong. He hadn't walked this slow since the time he'd gone to die in the hands of Voldemort. Everyone picked up on this.

And all the time he was furious, at himself. At his wand and mostly at Antonin Dolohov. He wished that man was dead, not someone else. Someone who should be living, laughing with him on his way back home.

"He looks dead," Bill whispered.

He thought back on the memories they had together, and all the arguments they'd had- stupid, stupid arguments. He was right, he was always right.

He looked at the family, staring at him, some smiling others very worried. How would he tell them? Especially her.

Hermione, was rigid, something was wrong with her. She always sensed things. And she was close to the truth here.

Hermione was screaming inside. She wanted to hug him, to speak alone. That would not happen.

As he reached the door Ginny lept at him but he hardly hugged back. Yes, he loved her. But he had no time. What did he say? Who would speak first? How would they react? He knew all the answers.

Everyone stared blankly, scared for him. Scared of what would come. He looked lost, searching for something. Half of them were in tears, others confused.

He looked down slowly waiting for questions he could answer. No lies. He said to himself. Truth.

Hermione spoke, asking the question most important to her. "Where's Ron, Harry?" and she gulped, like she knew already. Her heart sunk to the floor.

He looked up from his feet to her eyes. So worried and sleepless. She needed to know, she did. He stared, like he'd done so many times at her, and she just cried. One silent tear slid down her cheek, and at that moment she knew.

She knew, oh she did.

Harry breathed slow and blinking back a tear almost whispered, "Ron's dead Hermione."


	5. A Different Hermione

It was a cold, bitter early morning. Gripping at her arms, trying to warm them by rubbing was useless. Hermione trudged around the house. Their house. Or what used to be their house.

A slight light peered through the closed blinds of the house. She was not ready to open up yet. Too early. The house, had seen better days. Days of light joy, when he was there. Left in a horrible state, smashed glasses and papers everywhere. She was uncontrollable at the moment, doing things before thinking. Not Hermione.

Her bed consistied of a blanket and pillow in the corner of the room. She was used to sleeping uncomfortably, lack of sleep added to her trouble. The upstairs of the house was barely visited, she couldn't stand to use it. Not without him, it was too empty. It seemed so lifeless and dull.

Without that one person to make it complete, she was crying. Inside and out, her heart reaching for someone who would never come back. As tears fogged up her eyes once more, she felt like there was nowhere to run to. She felt as if she'd never be happy again. The way everything she'd ever loved, could just leave was painful. She wanted back what she had lost.

In her head, that person was there. Smiling, telling her to be strong.

"I'm trying darling, I really am. But it's hard without you."

Her brain was a mess, like her disfigured face from tears. She'd tried running away, but she didn't know what from or where to. Her mascara had run leaving her eyes look dull and give her black patches.

She let out another reserved breath. It was shaky, heavy and long. She could barely control herself. She was a wreck and although she tried to stop crying, she could not. Her eyes flowed heavily and her lips curled into a frown. Now and then they'd quiver.

She felt horrible as she sat, surrounded by pictures and memories of the two of them. She wore jeans, torn from the amount of times she'd just thrown them on again. Her big jumper he used to wear was always on. And whenever someone tried to wash it, she couldn't stand it.

Hermione Granger was a state.

The fact that she'd never had the chance to say goodbye, pained her so deeply. She'd never told them she loved them. In fact she wasn't even by their side, she was somewhere else, irrelevant.

Too young, they'd left her. So young, 21.

She was rotting from the inside, nothing to long for anymore. Pink cheeks were now ruined, smudged and wet. She sniffed.

Her mind was racing, thinking about memories. Old times. Magical moments. Everything they'd shared together.

It was as if the world was crumbling at it's core. Falling away, sucking everything good out of her. She had no strength, her mind filled hopelessly with longing. She cried heavily, faster, sobbing.

She was hungry, starving but could not bring herself to eat. Getting skinner by the day. Nothing stayed in her long enough before appearing in the bathroom or on the floor. She drunk, tea. Mug after mug. But it was never the same. The way he made it when they sat on the sofa together, cuddling, embracing, swigging from a cup of tea.

Death was something she'd always feared and she'd come close to it, plenty of times herself. But this was different. She wished it was her, not this person. That person, could live without her. They had so much more.

She hated those men with such a burning passion. For taking him away, murdering her love.

She remembered the body as she last saw it. It had been abandoned in the woods. It wasn't until two hours later when it was found. Someone had closed the eyes and whoever it was was not found again.

When she found out that the love of her life was dead, she felt her heart ripped out, spat and trod on and thrown into water as cold as ice and a million needles hitting her at once.

Her heart was finally breaking, nothing more to do. The person she wanted back wasn't just a great friend, they were something much more special.

Together, they'd done so much.

Knowing the person was no longer breathing, feeling, living made her sick. Literally. She was a mess. Because they were dead, she was nothing anymore.

She went numb as her whole world got destroyed.

Everyone knew she was lost, sorrowed and it hurt them to see the bright, optimistic girl she was, suffer in such a way. She was so negative, wanting the pain to stop. Even though a year had come and gone, she couldn't tear herself away.

She hardly spoke to anyone, even though they were all concerned and going through the same thing.

She'd dropped out of work, that was not Hermione. Not the real Hermione, and she loved work. And soon, everything dropped back out of place and the Ministry was becoming more and more corrupt every day.

She was so tired, her blood shot eyes red and her body aching constantly all over. Sleeping only resulted in nightmares, horrible visions. The nightmares were terrifying and she always woke up screaming. Except it wasn't really bad dreams. Just like deja-vu. Bad things she'd already experienced in the flesh.

Whenever the two of them had shared a bed, big protective arms like barriers around her, she slept so peacefully. Never crying, screaming.

It was the little things she missed. Hugs, tea, even just a heavy breath when her missing person snored in their sleep. Something to let her know they were fine.

As the face came into her head, she tried reaching our, for something no longer there.

Blue eyes, a freckled complexion. Ears, that turned visibly red when angered or embarrassed. A long nose and body. A smile that cut deep into her memory and heart.

She missed the humour along with the emotionally immature ways. The times that they'd made her scream, cry. She'd give anything for a fight right now, they always made up. Just to be able to feel. She just wanted emotion back in her life like they'd always given her.

Well, perhaps that is what part of what love is, it's an ongoing test. Trying to go on, because you promised the person you would keep fighting, until the end- always. When really you want to stop everything.

But she just wanted to say how she really felt. Change everything because she had nothing.

This person had the emotional range of a teaspoon.

And of course, the one thing nobody ever failed to remember; the fiery red hair.

He was dead, gone, forever lost.

Ronald Billius Weasley.


	6. To The Rescue

**HEY! Dear my lovely readers, the few of you, please take time to review. I need you to review as I need support. I'm a fragile child;) I need help so any suggestions or pieces you liked, just tell. Cheers dears. Enjoy. xxxx**

And without a doubt, he knew this was the place.

"Hermione?" he called closing the door behind him. Oh this was wrong, horrible. He stepped lightly around careful not to step on a torn photograph. He picked it up, carefully examining it. Himself, him and her, smiling happy.

This was like a stab to the heart, what he wouldn't give for them to both be like this right now. He felt stupid, a prize twat. All the times he'd moaned about the two kissing or even showing a spark of emotion. And now, he'd do anything for her to have him. Just for her to speak to him. For her to be happy. What would happen in a few years, when she was perhaps supposed to be married. Did everyone expect the two to feel right? For the poor girl he was searching for to be whole again? Never.

With a sharp glint in his eye he put the photograph into his pocket and took a deep breath.

"Hermione? W-Where are you?" He glanced around the house. Checking every room, he breathed heavily scared of what may be inside. He turned to his left and stepped into what the assumed was the living room.

It took a while for his eyes to adjust to the dark, still, quietness.

He'd been searching for her for weeks, knowing she was out there somewhere, mourning. Protection spells, tracing enchantments. The two were counter acting each other the whole way.

It looked empty, and through the dark he could make out a few chairs over turned, wilting flowers and smashed vases. More pictures, a glass of water and a familiar wand. His eyes glanced across.

Oh no.

That could not be her. No. But that hair, that fragile body. No.

Why did she live like this? Broken. She was a fighter, a survivor. Not this girl he saw huddled in a corner.

She had her back to a wall, her knees up under her chin and her arms crossed, her head burrowed into them. Her thick, matted hair was in every direction. A sharp, heavy sob called out from her. Her heart, still tired, was pounding heavily.

Harry stepped forward as lightly as possible before one of the floorboards in the dully lit room creaked. She looked up quickly, as if something was going to attack her. Her brain went zooming forwards.

"Hey, hey! It's me... calm." Harry said slowly backing away.

"Who are you, what do you want from me?" she yelled, now rising from her position. Her mind was sharp, always scared, worried of death. She grabbed her wand, which was rolling away from her and pointed it out in front of her. "Get away."

"Hey!"

"YOU DON'T KNOW ME!" She looked almost fierce. If it were nto the fact that this were Hermione, Harry would've drawn his wand. She gritted her teeth and Harry called out softly, gently..

"Hey, it's me Hermione-"

"You know my name?" she wiped her eyes with her long jumper and blinked. Now with a clearer sight she sighed dropping her wand instantly. It was like something clicked into place in her memory.

She ran, as fast as she could to the door way where Harry was standing, worried. He rose from the door frame as he saw her tear stained face coming at him. He knew what was going on and he was reached out, his arms extended. She crashed into him heavy.

The first thing he noticed was how skinny she was. "Oi, you haven't been eating."

"I'm fine." she mumbled holding onto her best friend tighter, fingers clasping at the collar of his white shirt.

"You're not are you?" And his question was responded with a tight squeeze. His arms held her close and he realised soon that she was crying against his chest heavily.

"I don't know anymore. I feel like a different person."

"That's okay." Harry looked her straight into the eyes like he had when he had to tell her that her boyfriend was dead. Holding her hand as she looked up on him, she breathed shakily.

To be honest, it was just good to see him, to see another who knew exactly what she was going through. Her hands had a slight shake, still over come by Harry being here. "We made it through before, we'll do it again." He said simply.

"Yes." And she had nothing more to say on that matter. They would be fine, but how soon she didn't know. She couldn't help but laugh.

The look on her face said she was still not convinced.

"It's okay, you're going through a hard patch." He lightly pulled away and took her hand in his rubbing at her thumb. "But it'll be good for you to see everyone, I know Ginny needs you. Let's get you home yeah?"

"What?" Hermione dropped his hand and stepped back. Harry could tell he'd done something wrong. 'Too soon' he thought 'too soon'.

"Home, the Burrow."

"No." she said softly.

"Hermione, come on." he moaned, wanting her back safe and sound.

"NO. YOU LISTEN TO ME HARRY POTTER. YOU THINK YOU CAN BARGE IN HERE, AND JUST TAKE ME HOME AND IT'S ALL GONNA BE FINE JUST LIKE THAT?"

Harry was slightly shocked, "No, Hermione, I..." She was not okay. Far from it.

"NOTHINGS EVER GONNA BE FINE, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" She jabbed a finger at him before her random words started. "I'M NOT GOING BACK, NOT NOW, NOT EVER, I CAN'T. ESPECIALLY WITHOUT HIM, WITHOUT HIM. HE'S GONE. OKAY? WE ALL DIE, HE DIED TOO YOUNG. IT'S NOT FAIR. YOU KNOW IT'S WRONG, I MEAN BLOODY HELL-" She covered her mouth.

Harry laughed, "You said bloody hell."

And she smiled, for the first time in ages. "Yeah. Yeah, I did."

"Just like Ron."

"Hahaa, yes!" and she generally smiled, proud of herself. "How's home?" she asked, in a better mood, "How's everyone?"

"You know, never fine but getting there.."

"Oh dear, dear Molly?"

"It's hard to say it's easy for her when she lost Fred but that's harsh. Of course she still hurts, a lot, for them both. She says she's mad for always complaining about Ron."

"Poor woman, and you and Ginny?"

"She shouts a lot."

"It's not you, I shouted a lot at Ron, more than I should've."

"Yeah, but most of the time, it was his fault."

"But when it wasn't, and I just yelled.. I feel so bad about it."

"We need to realise that none of this is our fault right?"

"I guess."

Harry paced around the room slowly, her beady eyes watching him. His boots almost made the wooden floor shake.

"Who lives here?" he asked intriged.

"Some muggles, gone to America on holidays, they're due back tomorrow."

"You've stayed here?"

"No not always, just last week I was in some run down apartment in Devon and a shabby house on the outskirts of London last month."

"Look." Harry reached for the light switch. "Look around." He flicked the switch and they flickered into life slowly but steadily.

To be honest, the whole place looked as if it would crumble at any moment. Not suitable for a 21 year old to be hiding in.

Hermione turned around, hesitant at first. She felt queasy, and she suddenly realised that she was missing. She felt crazy, insane and mostly insecure- not sure who she was. Hermione had lived here? SHE had lived here?

She was almost hit with neausea when she realised, Harry was talking..

"This is how you've been living for months. It's been almost 2 since.."

"2 months today actually and you might as well say it.. since he died." she almost cried.

"Yes." Silence, as she wiped her face once more, pulling her sleeves down longer and the jumper over her faded jeans.

"Shall we put it in order again?" he said, feeling like his old Headmaster Albus Dumbledore.

He remembered that day greatly, the day he first met Horace Slughorn. A strange man, in his own way. Yet, if he were here, he'd give Hermione many things. Things to cure her nerves, a full memory restore, sleep regaining crystals.. and endless collection.

Casting his mind back to the moment, just as he had been shown all those years ago, Harry did the spell.

Things zoomed past them, fixing, mending, repairing damage poor Hermione had caused them. Parts of glass flying to a a lamp shade, tufts of fabric sewing back into place.

Having never seen this before, Hermione stared in awe at the happenings around her.

"What a wonderful spell."

"By one of the greatest wizards himself."

"Dumbledore." she smirked at him, the pair sharing a thousand memories.

There was a short pause, a silence, a pin drop could be heard. The two just looked, solemnly at each toher, smiling.

"Thank you." she blabbed slightly, feeling small by his massive figure approaching.

"For what?"

"For coming for me, I was loosing everything.."

"Loosing what?"

"Control. Sense. Reality. I had no idea what was happening... I've been alone for 2 months."

"Then come home! We miss you." he quickly hugged her then held her arms.

"I miss you all more, loneliness hurts Harry."

"I know, I've been alone too."

"Hm."

There was a long sigh and a quick sniff before she moved her eyes back to his. "I miss him."

"I know, a bit of an understatement." he snorted.

"I miss him a lot." She bit her lip deeply holding in a cry.

"Yes, as do I. I understand you. This isn't the first time you've cried over Ron though is it Missy?" He took her chin between his hands and shook it. "Hey? And we got over that didn't we?"

"This is different. I can't... I can't see him, feel him, smell him. Just say 'hello'. Fight him, stare at him or even hold him. I feel like it's all my fault as well, that fight. The last things we said. This is pain. That was like a splinter. This is like a war wound."

"Hermione, how much do you miss him?" he said slowly as if he was letting something big go. He indicated for her to sit down and she did so, huddling up with a pillow.

"I can't explain it Harry. It's, it's hard. I haven't spoken to anyone.. I'd do anything to see him. Have him back. I'd go back and replace his life with mine, make sure he lived, happy long and died old."

And she nodded, nothing else to say as he tried clearing some of her stuff up, her own belongings.

There wasn't much here. A toothbrush, a few jumpers, clothes, hairbrush, a few sherbet lemons, an apple, some of Fred and George's products, Crookshanks's collar, a bottle of water, an empty perfume bottle, her wand, a yule ball ticket, Hogwarts: A History, The Tales of Beedle The Bard, and thousands of photographs.

"Undetectable extension charm on this bag again?" he said filling the beaded bag she had taken with her on their adventures for horcruxes. That seemed a life time away now, as if that had never happened.

"Yep." Silence again, waiting.

"But you love him? Still?"

She nodded again.

"It is killing me, it is really really hard, and I don't know what I'm doing anymore. It's like something happens and I feel like it's the end of the world. I woke up this morning and felt arms around me. Madness, I thought he was still alive, then it hit me. It happens daily."

"Are you convinced that you can't go on with out him?" Harry was finally getting to his point, the way to make Hermione whole again.

"I'm positive, Harry I tried!" Hermione said defensively. "Imagine if it was Ginny gone."

"Don't say that."

"I'm sorry, I just.."

"I know."

"It's hard for you all to understand what I'm feeling."

"So you'd do anything to have him back?" he asked, sweeping shards of glass with a broom to the corner of the room.

"Yep."

Harry caught his breath, looked at her directly and then, trying to make it more obvious repeated, "You'd do ANYTHING to have him back?"

"Yes. Hang on," she noticed the tone in his voice and the slight catch in his throat, "-what're you getting at?"

"I came here for two reasons. One, to find you and two, because Ron might not be lost."

"Huh?"

"There might be a remote possibility he could live-"


	7. Things Time Had Forgotten

Hermione slowly rubbed at the hourglass on a chain in her hand. It had not left her since she had been given it, Harry was pleased about the slight smile she had.

She held it like a life line, which to her it was. A way of bringing Ron back to her, a way of fixing her life again. She was going to see him, she was.

And as Harry brought back a butterbeer to her she told him to put it on her left side so that she didn't have to put her time-turner down. She caressed it again, reading it over again, thinking about Ron.

"What you thinking?" he said sitting at the table, their old spot in the Leaky.

"It's strange to be out. People looking at me. I think, they know, they all know I'm crazy."

"Look at me Granger, you aren't crazy."

"Not far from it." with her free hand she took her glass in hand. She slid a few coins across the table at her friend. "Here, here's the money for the drink."

"Keep it." he said, sighing. "My treat."

"Sure?"

"Yeah, a toast." he raised his glass, slowly to hers. "Your choice."

"A toast, to you. To the boy who lived, who I wouldn't be standing here without."

"Okay, a toast."

"To you."

"To me." he laughed.

Today, the weather had been bright, not too chilly, quite simple. Light had almost blinded Hermione as she flinched into it, Harry pulling her by the arm.

"So you actually think this could work Harry? Saving Ron, bringing him back?"

"I don't see why not."

"But, but, who have you told?" she said looking up at him with confused eyes.

"Kingsley. Well, actually he suggested it in the first place."

"Kingsley? Why?"

Harry smiled, leaning forward and lowering his voice. "There's a prophecy."

"A prophecy? What's that got to do with it? And anyway, I thought they all got destroyed back when-"

"Prophecy 583 was saved from the department of mysteries before many got destroyed in 1996. It didn't take long for the good ol' Ministry to discover it was the work of death eaters. Immediately they assumed the prophecy had made its way into the hands of Riddle, but since some awesome kid destroyed him," Harry said grinning to himself, "-it has been located. Fortunately for us, they had a registry on it and were able to find the original source of the prediction…"

"Who was it?" Hermione asked whispering, leaning in as if listening to a ghost story.

"Trelawney. Of course, her predictions are shaky and not completely accurate, but we know from experience she's been almost dead on before." Harry paused to grimace again, Hermione nodding. "Kingsley was able to put her into a powerful trance and gather the lost information."

"What did it say?" she urged, her eyes bright with hope.

"It spoke of a trio," Harry said, scanning around the room for the various faces watching him. Even after all this time, he'd never get used to the whole famous thing. "A trio whose combined magical power would be so great, no dark magic could ever defeat it. To put it simply, it could change the world."

"You, Ron and I then?" Hermione asked, her quick mind trying to figure it all out. Harry shook his head and watched Hermione raise her bushy, untamed eyebrows.

"No. See, I thought the same. Unfortunately I'm not involved in this. But you are."

"Huh?"

"The Ministry did think at first it was a trio of three adults, us, but the deeper the prophecy was explored they realized it was speaking about…a family. The prophecy talked about the lasting effects, the offspring, the power. This family would be the start of generations of powerful witches and wizards, creating a line of perfectly good, strong magic that would be ultimately unstoppable."

"So…the trio is?" Hermione said, breathing heavily.

"Man, woman and child," Harry answered, slowly.

"So, it's.. it's..." she stuttered.

"Yeah."

"Ron, I and and some kid?" she said simply.

"A family." he reminded her, smiling.

Hermione gasped, her mind spinning. "Our kid."

Harry nodded, his face solemn, rising from his seat and pulling his jacket on. "Your kid."

"Oh my god Harry. We're gonna have a kid?" she almost screamed, jumping out of her chair.

"Yes, but that's later. Right now we need to get Ron." Harry laughed taking her arm and guiding her out of the pub into the fresh morning.

"So this is why Kingsley wants to save Ron? For the prophecy?" she said processing everything quickly.

"Yeah, for the prophecy to work, Ron must be with us."

"What if he isn't! What if, what if we can't save him?" she said, digging her nails into her palms.

"If he is not with us," Harry gulped, "well, they say if the prophecy is not fulfilled, bad things will happen."

"What kind of bad things?"

"Things like, the whole Wizarding World in mortal danger."

"Oh my god." Hermione grabbed her head in her hands, rubbing her temples, eyes tightly closed. This was too much for one day for Hermione. Far too much. Ron, Kids, Harry, Death, Ministry, Kingsley, Prophecy, Trelawney, Time Turner and it was just too much. "Oh my god."

"Come on Hermione, let's take the day to do whatever we like. It's been too long." Harry grimaced hugging her, his duffle coat swinging around him.

"Shopping!" Hermione squealed, running off into the nearest shop.

"Brilliant." Harry snorted.

Harry and Hermione spent the rest of the day, him leading her to places she hadn't been in years and shops she'd always wanted to visit.

Hermione went into honeydukes and bought boxes of sweets for the Weasleys.

"Dad's gonna kill me for eating this much sugar, it's bad for your teeth." she mumbled nibbling on a chocolate frog and passing Harry a licorice wand.

"You never were one for food." Harry smiled.

Harry went to a muggle shop to buy Ginny a scarf and a present for Teddy, ironically a blue teddy bear. Harry explained how everyone was doing, how Harry had come to care for Teddy like his own son.

For once, it was perfect. It was almost as if evil was actually gone for good and the two friends walked along the roads they had forgotten over time.


	8. Goodbyes Get Painful

They reached the top of the hill, it was far away enough from the Burrow. Harry yawned sleepily, it was early, very early. The reddish-orange sunlight behind them was only just emerging. As wind hit his face he felt more awake than he had in a while. If not for the fact that what they were doing was stupid, scary and emotional, Harry would smile.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" Harry gulped for what seemed like the 100th time to the both of them.

"Harry, I'm ready, I've waited long enough. Please stop, stop asking me." Hermione uttered, biting her lip whilst tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. And although she was trying her hardest she couldn't convince him she was ready.

She was shaking, uneasy, unstable and not quite sure she was ready to go back. Harry grabbed Hermione's hands, holding them comfortingly. She glared into the distance, to the floor, anywhere but Harry's eyes so he couldn't stop her from saving Ron.

"I'm ready." she sighed again.

"It's okay if you're not, another day, another week?"

"It's fine."

"If you're sure, I know you're scared."

"I'm ready! I've been waiting too long, too long! I need him." she cried out.

"Fine, you got everything?"

Hermione patted her bag; a small, purple, beaded handbag. She gave the fragile-looking bag a little shake. A large bang was heard as books toppled over and it echoed across the hill. Things rolled about and Harry laughed. She then checked for her wand and stuffed it into her pocket, ready for anything.

"Okay. First thing, the time turner, I've turned it enough times you just need to do one more."

"Check." Hermione murmured, nodding to Harry.

"Secondly, I know it's obvious, but don't let yourself be seen."

"Already sorted, stole your cloak from your old trunk." she said, wrapping it around her body.

"Good. And third, you have to promise me something. And it's not easy to say, but you have to promise me."

"Yes. What?"

"You have to promise Hermione."

"Yes! What?!"

"If," Harry gulped, "..if, worst comes to worse and Ron, can't be saved, if something happens-" Hermione stood there, and her eyes grew very wide.

"Oh no! Harry you're mad! You can't expect me to leave him.."

"Yes, I thought you'd catch on before I finished-" Harry rolled his eyes.

"Absolutely not! If I mess up, I'm not coming back, I can't! You've got to understand that.."

"What?

"I can't come back." she muttered, focusing on her shoes.

"Hermione," Harry grabbed her by the shoulders. "..if you don't come back, I'm coming for the both of you."

They smiled.

"Harry, I want you to know, I owe you everything." And she hugged him tightly like the time when she had to say goodbye to him. Never knowing if they'd ever meet again, if either of them would die.

It was a dark day for them both. It had never been harder to say goodbye, especially when so much was at risk. Harry felt the tears slip under his glasses and down his face. He knew the most that she needed to do this. He wished he'd told someone but that would be foolish, they would be stopped. Harry watched Hermione carefully. Silent tears started to drip from her eyes.

"You'll be fine, you're Hermione Granger." Harry uttered clenching her hand.

"I know Harry, I know." she sighed dropping his hand and taking a step back.

And Harry wanted to say something, say something wise, something to spring hope in her. She was the one who was good with words. He wanted to be like her for once, give her a speech or her journey. But he didn't. And she turned the hourglass and Harry's mouth just hung open..

He watched her, in all her broken glory, sigh and lower her head with hair bouncing down. She shut her eyes, and exhaled.

And then she was gone.

Harry Potter stood, eyes focusing on the grass beneath his feet, fresh morning air whispering at him. Harry swallowed and walked away.


	9. Never Easy

February, 27th. Saturday night. 6.30pm.

She opened her eyes, aware she was on the hill still. The last time she'd been here, flowers were springing up, it was broad daylight and this was just a minute ago. When she registered everything around her she couldn't help but laugh, the ground covered in a thick blanket of snow. She twirled. She held out her fingers, letting snowflakes fall around her, the darkness creeping in quickly.

The first thing she felt was freedom. She could dance and waste time because currently Ron was alive. Ron was alive. It took a while to sink in. Then a whole flood of emotion swept over her and she felt everything from the fear of what was coming and what could go wrong. She had regret that she never said goodbye to the family or telling them of her plans. Hope that she could see Ron, save Ron, love Ron again.

As quickly a she could she took her time turner from around her neck and put it into her bag securely. She exhaled sharply, starting to pace around. Time to do some work, she thought, begging for morning to come quicker. Hermione checked her watch from her bag and set it back inside gently. This time right now she'd be just leaving the ministry right? Yes, she remembered it. It was early off and she was heading home after the visit from Krum. She would be able too see herself now, surely.

Hermione strolled toward the side of the hill, glancing just slightly down. Yes, there she was, running to the Burrow through the thick white flakes falling from clouds above her. It was strange, considering how long it'd been since she'd last time traveled through time. A red scarf and hat blew out behind her, her mittens clutching at her coat. Past Hermione dragged a paperwork full bag over her shoulder. Past Hermione had a fearful face, red cheeks, glistening eyes. She gasped, sensing the reasons for her plaid emotions. She was worried about the Krum thing, terrified of what could come. Hermione cursed to herself for being so stupid, she wished she could prevent the fight but that was too risky with a house of people.

She shook her head, shaking the tears out and tried to concentrate once more. Future Hermione laughed softly, watching herself tiptoe across the garden and knocking on the Burrow door. The girl she knew well knocked on the door again, impatient and cold.

A smiling Molly swung the door open and pulled Hermione into her arms forcefully. Hermione could see her ginger curls bouncing, a floury apron around her little, plump body. She became a little teary eyed again, for this was a time when Molly was always smiling, always staying strong, for Fred. And now, in the present day she had lost two sons and gained an emotional wreck of a girl staying with them. She wished she had made it easier on Molly.

She wished it was simple, but it wasn't, it was never easy.


End file.
